The Cum Drinkers Club

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would suck dick. After all, I was a straight, red-blooded all-American male. But there I was one Saturday night, on my knees in a hotel room with seven inches of trouser snake jammed down my throat.

I knew a load of cum was going to shoot into my mouth. The only question was whether I was going to spit or swallow. The distinction seemed important at the time. By my way of thinking then, if I swallowed, it would mark a point of no return. I'd cross a line and become all the way gay. And, egads, what if I swallowed and liked it? Then, I'd really be fucked.

It seemed that only one other factor kept me from being a total fag. The cock in my mouth was attached to a chick named Sara who had a body straight out of Playboy magazine.

I remained undecided about whether it mattered that two of Sara's transgender "sisters" were waiting for their turns to fuck my face. Both sat on the hotel bed and stroked their cocks while watching me service Sara.

While contemplating all this, the moment I knew was coming finally arrived. Sara blasted her load in my mouth. She pulled out and flopped breathlessly onto the bed. The three cross-dressers stared at me as I held the jizz. I felt a little slip out of my lips and trickle down my chin. Sara tilted her head.

"Aren't you going to swallow it, honey?" she asked.

My heart thumped. Even if I wanted to spew the cum, there was no good place to do it. My eyes searched frantically for a trash can or towel.

She made it sound so easy. But the thought of slipping into Fag Kingdom scared the hell out of me.

That's when the idea hit me -- a solution right from Sara herself.

But before I go any further, let me explain how I got into this situation.

It started with a trip to the mall. I went to Brown's department store to buy my stepmother some perfume for her birthday.

The chick working behind the perfume counter had a body unlike any I'd ever seen. She wore a tight, black dress with a scoop front that barely contained her perfect, round melons. I watched from across the aisle as she helped another customer. The chick bent over to open a cabinet. Her long, blonde hair fell into her face. She gracefully brushed it aside. A woody popped in my jeans as my eyes traced her long, lean legs to the pink panties barely showing under her dress.

The customer bought a bottle of Opium perfume and hurried away with her bag. The chick behind the counter was alone. I lunged at the chance to speak to her.

"Hi," she said. "Can I help you?"

Her voice was beautiful. Just a touch husky, but all the way feminine.

"Yeah, you can help me," I said. "Give me a bottle of Opium and your name and number."

The chick smiled and tilted her head. She looked me over. I didn't even try to hide my boner, which poked hard into my jeans. Her eyes lingered on the lump for a second before she shook herself out of the gaze.

"I don't think you know what you're getting into," she said.

"Baby, I can handle anything you wanna throw my way," I said.

Her blue eyes twinkled. I knew then that I'd shot and scored.

"OK," she said. "We'll see about that."

She wrote quickly on a piece of paper and folded it in half before handing it to me.

"Now give me $87," she said, as I shoved the note into my pocket.

"Sorry, babe," I said. "I don't pay for it."

Her red lips curled up at the corners.

"Not even for perfume?" she asked.

The chick put a bottle into a paper bag with handles.

"That," I said, "is not a problem."

I whipped out my debit card and paid.

As I walked away, the chick said, "Hope to see you."

"You will," I said without looking back.

I headed for the Bass Pro Shops on the other side of the mall to check the prices on hunting knives. I waited until I was at the food court to read the note. It said:

"If you really think you can handle ANYTHING, meet me at 8 tonight at the Courtyard Marriott off exit 23. Room 301. WARNING: I won't be alone."

She signed her name, Sara, in cursive with a big swooping S.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Sara," I said.

I shoved the note in my jeans pocket and kept walking toward Bass Pro Shops with a little extra pep in my step.

The store was slow for a Saturday, probably because everyone was at the big fishing tournament. Mike, a friend I'd met at the local community college, was working behind a glass case filled with knives.

"Dude," he said, "What the fuck is up?"

We bumped fists.

"Oh, you know," I said. "Just shopping for knives and picking up cooze."

"Picking up cooze?" he asked. "Anything good?"

"Man, you ain't going to fuckin' believe this," I said.

I took the note out of my pocket and handed it to him.

"Read it," I said. "This chick down at Brown's just gave that to me."

Mike unfolded the paper and looked at it a few seconds. He smiled but with only half his mouth.

"Sara?" he asked. "Is that the chick who works at the perfume counter?"

"Yeah, you know her?" I asked.

He snickered.

"Yeah, I know her," he said.

"So why are you laughing?" I asked.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, while folding the note. He handed it back to me.

"What?" I asked.

"You going to meet her?" he asked, while crossing his arms.

"I don't fuckin' know now," I said. "Would you just quit with the questions and tell me what you know?"

I was ready to jump over the counter and strangle him, even if he did have access to a small arsenal of knives. Visions of tit-fucking and cum splatters had been dancing through my head, but Mike was quickly dashing my hopes.

"Ok, take it easy," he said. "I just hear she's wild."

"She's wild?" I asked. "That's it?"

"Yeah," he said. "She likes to fuck a lot. She gets around."

Relief flowed through me.

"Well, no shit," I said. "Any girl that would give me a note like that sure as shit ain't a virgin."

"I guess so," Mike said.

We stared at each silently for a couple seconds. I searched Mike's face for answers but found nothing.

"So," he finally said, "you want to see a knife?"

I looked at the array of knives behind the glass. Nothing interested me.

"Naw, fuck it," I said. "Changed my mind. I'll catch you later."

"Ok," Mike said. "I'll see you around."

A sly, smug smile spread across his face as I turned to leave.

At 7:30, I put on my best Metallica T-shirt and told my roommate I was "going to meet a chick." The drive to the hotel took 20 minutes. I had a boner the whole way.

Air conditioning blasted me in the face as the lobby's automatic doors swung open. It seemed like an unlikely place for a hot. nasty tryst. An old dude in a straw hat and Hawaiian shirt was checking in. Nearby, a guy in a golf shirt read a newspaper while sitting back in a leather chair next to a potted palm tree. I whipped by them and headed straight for the elevator.

Room 301 was on the top floor at the end of a hallway. Mike's bullshitting had completely slipped from my mind as I knocked on the door.

Sara threw open the door. Her eyes blazed with a sexual intensity I'd never before seen in a woman. She looked down at the lump in my jeans without even trying to hide it.

"Come in," she said.

I stepped in and surveyed the scene. It was a standard $150-a-night room with a king bed and a flat screen TV. I didn't see any luggage. It was so clean, it looked like the maid had left two minutes earlier. A picture window fogging at the corners overlooked the pool.

"Nice place ya got here," I said.

"Thanks," she said. "This is where we play sometimes. Have a seat."

I didn't just sit on the bed. I made myself comfortable by stretching out and putting my head on a pillow.

"Who is 'we'?" I asked.

"Whether you learn the answer to that really depends," she said.

"Depends on what?" I asked.

Sara walked to the window and closed the shades. The room went dark.

"On how far you're willing to go," she said.

Sara eased her body on top of mine. Her tongue pushed into my mouth. The girl knew how to kiss/ She moaned softly as our lips smacked against each other. Her pelvis rubbed against my cock. I had to fight to keep from cumming in my jeans.

But she wasn't letting up.

Sara slid herself down my body until her face was even with the bulge she'd been eyeing so keenly a few minutes earlier. She unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my knees. Then she did the same with my polka dot boxers.

Her warm mouth enveloped my stiff cock. Sara took the whole thing inside of her on the first swoop. She pulled back slowly, dragging her tongue on my flesh. A second before her lips would've left the head, Sara forced herself to take the whole tamale back up inside her. I'd never had blow job quite like it. Sara knew all too well what I wanted.

I tried so hard to keep from cumming. I wanted the blow job to last. But Sara was too good. I couldn't hold back. My sperm shot into that ho like 10 cannonballs. Sara held her head firmly in place and accepted every drop without swallowing.

When I finished, she crawled back up my body. Her lips drew close to mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She put a finger over my lips and froze me with a passionate gaze. Sara removed her finger and quickly replaced it with her lips. Her tongue poked me, urging me to open my mouth. She wanted to return my cum back to my body.

I suddenly remembered Mike's sly smile and him telling me about the rumors he'd heard. But I didn't give a fuck. He wasn't there. I didn't mind being Sara's cum dump. I wanted it.

The dam broke when I parted my lips. My own salty dick snot poured into my mouth. Sara cupped her mouth around mine. Our tongues played in the slime.

When Sara pulled back, I closed my mouth.

"Swallow," she whispered.

I let the jizz slide down my throat.

"Very good," she said. "You passed the first test."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "What do I get?"

Sara stood up and walked across the room to a desk. She turned on a lamp that threw a dim light on the room.

"You get to see my surprise," she said.

I sat up.

Sara kicked off her high heels and then turned around to face the wall. She slipped her dress over her head. A lacy black bra strap squeezed her back. A black thong separated her butt cheeks. Sara left on the bra, while bending over to push the thong to the ground. When she stood up, Sara peeked over her shoulder with a smile.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Fuckin' A," I said.

I could barely believe my eyes. When Sara whipped around, a seven-inch boner was poking straight at me.

"What the fuck?" I asked.

I instinctively recoiled, pressing my back against the head board.

"I take it you've never sucked off a she-male before," Sara said.

"Fuck no," I said.

"That's cool," she said with a playful smile. "There's a first time for everything, right?"

She walked over and sat on the bed next to me. My eyes wouldn't come unglued from her prick. I was astounded that it was staying hard.

"Look," Sara said, "why don't you try it? You might like it."

She put her hand on my naked thigh. I didn't flinch.

"I don't know," I said. "Won't I be a fag if I suck it?"

Sara chuckled.

"I don't know," she said, while rubbing my leg. "I don't usually label people like that. The way I look at it, if it feels good, just do it. Besides, it's just me and you here. No one else has to know anything."

She made a convincing argument. And although I never would've admitted it at the time, the truth was I did want to try blowing a she-male. It seemed so kinky. I looked her over. Except for the cock, Sara was all woman. Her tits looked as real as anything I'd ever seen at the strip club.

I slid off the bed and stripped naked before dropping to my knees on the floor.

"Very good," Sara said with a wicked grin. "You won't be sorry."

She stood in front of me with her dick inches from my lips. I watched it pulse with her heartbeat.

"Go ahead," Sara said. "Taste it."

I wrapped my lips around the head and let my tongue touch the soft, pink flesh. She had a thick cock. My mouth strained to fin around it. Otherwise, I felt at ease with Sara's prick inside me. I pushed my head forward . She moaned. I took about a third of her shaft inside me before pulling back. I took a little more on the second stroke and more yet on the third.

Sara totally dug my technique.

"Oh fuck," she said. "You are sooo fuuuucking goooood."

I looked up. She looked down. The sexual voltage couldn't have been higher if sparks shot out of her eyes.

Without even thinking of it, I swallowed her whole prick. I could tell by her drooping eyelids that she was trying not to cum.

Just when I was about to really start bobbing my head, a knock came at the door. I jumped back.

"Who the fuck is that?" I asked.

"My friends," Sara said. "Remember how I said I wouldn't be here alone? They're running late, but they finally made it."

"Who are they?" I asked.

Sara smiled.

"Oh, you might call them my sisters, Amy and Rebecca," she said.

I smiled back.

"Let them in," I said.

When Sara opened the door, two brunettes walked in . Sara introduced the one with blonde streaks and a tight, red dress as Amy. The one in purple was Rebecca. She had curly hair down to her shoulders. Both had big tits and looked like they'd just walked out of a Penthouse shoot.

Sara stuck her cock back in my mouth while Amy and Rebecca stripped naked. They spread out on the bed and started stroking themselves. Even naked, they were as feminine as Sara.

It didn't take long for Sara to jizz in my mouth.

And that's when I panicked about going all the way gay and searching about for a place to spit.

What better place, I thought, than Amy's mouth. After all, Sara had done it to me.

I stood and walked over to Amy. She dug the vibe immediately, tilting back her head and opening her mouth. I let my face hover about six inches above hers and then allowed Sara's cum to ooze onto Amy's tongue. She did the same thing to Rebecca, who repeated the act with Sara.

Amy and Rebecca grabbed me by the wrists and guided me to a spot on the bed next to them. They laid me on my back. Each one leaned over to suck on my nipples, as Sara laid her body on top of me with her lips a few inches above mine.

I opened wide. Sara slowly dribbled the cum into my mouth. When the stream petered out, she gave me an unmistakable look. She was saying, "swallow."

I couldn't resist anymore. Her jizz slid down my throat. The point of no return had been passed, but I didn't mind. It all seemed so natural.

I got in the doggy-style position on the bed. Amy slid in behind me, while Sara sifted through a purse until she found a tube of KY Jelly. She handed it to Amy, who dabbed some on her fingers and shoved them up my bunghole. She worked me gently until I was relaxed and thoroughly lubed.

"Fuck that he-cunt," said Rebecca, who lay out on the bed in front of me.

Sara slid between Rebecca's legs started sucking her.

Amy's pumps started slow and shallow but quickly picked up speed and added depth. Her thrusts hurt at first, but my ass adjusted. Each pump caused less pain and eventually disappeared. Soon, all I felt was pure ecstasy.

Sara's blow job was going well. Rebecca suddenly pushed her away and got on her knees. Rebecca aimed her prick at my face and stroked it twice. She must've shot a gallon of cum. When she finished, I could feel it streaming down my face and dripping off my chin. The juice spotted the bed sheet.

After that, it didn't take long for Amy to jizz. She dug her nails into my hips and gave one last monster stroke before unloading in my behind.

Everyone had been satisfied. When Amy pulled out of my ass, I went to the bathroom and cleaned up. The girls were on the bed, naked and laughing, when I returned. I squeezed onto the bed with them. Sara wrapped an arm around me.